


Unknown

by PhoenixSavant



Series: First Times [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fingering, Kidnapping, Showers, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSavant/pseuds/PhoenixSavant
Summary: Unknown found you, sent you to the RFA, and then came to take you back.





	Unknown

Unknown’s first time

 

                He’d been watching you for months.  You were exactly what was needed to infiltrate the RFA.  You were innocent, gentle, friendly, and caring.  You were also stupidly naïve, which was the final piece to the puzzle.  To test you, he’d dropped his wallet while passing by.  Pretending not to hear you, he walked nearly three blocks while you chased him to return it.  Had you opened it, you’d have found out it was empty, but you didn’t even do that.  He sent you to the apartment a few days later.

                Watching from Mint Eye, he monitored your progress.  As expected, his little pawn had been quickly accepted and put to work coordinating the next party.  The surprise came when he saw that the members of the RFA were becoming interested in you; openly competing in the chat room for your affection and attention.  Well, he wouldn’t have that.  He saw you first, after all.

                Disguising himself as a delivery boy, he went to the apartment and rang the doorbell.  There was no response.  He grunted irritably and rang it again.  This time he heard a voice calling.  Good, you were finally responding. 

                Disheveled hair and a cheek with creases from a pillow peered through the slightly open door.  “MM… Can I help you?” you asked, blinking your sleepy eyes.

                “I have a delivery for MC,” he said politely, holding up the bouquet of random flowers.  He had thought about bringing roses, but decided against it.  Roses were just so cliché.

                You rubbed your eyes and yawned, not opening the door.  “I think you have the wrong place.  I’m sure no one knows I’m here.”

                He smiled at that, almost answering with, “I know you are.”  Instead he rolled his eyes, affecting boredom.  “Look, I just need to deliver these so I can get back.  Are you taking them or not?”

                “There’s no need to be rude about it,” you mumbled, opening the door a little more. 

                The additional opening was all he needed.  He shoved the flowers at you and grabbed your wrist.  It was more slender than he had expected, and you almost pulled free before his fingers closed tightly around it and pulled you toward him. 

                “The only thing rude is the way you’ve been throwing yourself at those other men when I saw you first,” he growled.  “That’s ending right now.  You’re coming with me.” 

                From his pocket he pulled a small vial and popped loose the cork with his thumb.  A single pass under your nose dropped you into unconsciousness and he caught you as you collapsed.  Sweeping you up in his arms, he held you gently.  For a moment he thought about leaving the flowers behind, but on second thought knelt clumsily and gathered them.  You could keep them, he decided.  It’d be a waste to leave them in the doorway to wilt. 

                That had been a week ago.  He smuggled you out a side entrance and brought you with him to Magenta.  He kept you in a cell at first, only visiting once a day to take you a meal and some fresh water.  He hadn’t thought ahead far enough to decide what he would do with you once he got you here, and a cell meant you couldn’t get away.  You’d figured out who he was almost immediately.

                “You’re Unknown, from the app, aren’t you?” you’d asked, your eyes going wide as you slid the puzzle pieces together.

                “And if I am?” he asked, leaning idly against the bard of the cell opposite hers. 

                “You… I… You hacked the RFA messenger and lied to me!” you exclaimed.

                “Don’t talk to me about lies.  You don’t know the half of the lies you’ve been fed,” he snapped, clenching his fist.  “They’re all liars!  Every last one of them!”  He moved in a livid rush, slamming his forearm against your cage.  “The only thing I told you was that I found a phone.  You’re the idiot who listened!”  He turned and stormed away, furious that she would call HIM a liar.

                On the fourth day he moved you to a room next to his own.  With a camera broadcasting your every move, he felt more settled.  He could watch you from his desk and be certain you weren’t escaping.  You were his, and now you were safely away from all of _those_ people, especially the damn redhead.  Still, something nagged at his mind and now that he wasn’t anxious about you going to another man, he was restless. 

                He started visiting you more frequently, providing three meals a day instead of one.  You never mentioned the trick he’d played on you again.  Instead, you started offering to share meals with him, asking him about himself. 

                As if he would fall for that.  He wasn’t stupid.  People held against their will often tried to play nicely with their captors in hope of making them slip up.  Well, you wouldn’t get to him.

                He looked back at the screen where he could see you sitting at the side of the cot.  Your hands clenched the wooden rail at the side and your eyes fixed on the wilted flowers where they rested atop the narrow table across from you.  You were wearing the same clothing as when he’d brought you here.  It bothered him. 

                A short time later, the door to your room opened.  “Come with me,” he ordered. 

                You didn’t move, only looked at him in confusion.

                “I said, come with me.  You need a bath.  You stink.” 

                “I wouldn’t if you didn’t keep me locked up.”

                “I didn’t ask what you thought about it.  Move, or I won’t let you shower.”

                That threat made you stand, though you were still defiant.  “Good,” he thought.  He liked your defiance.  It made his heart speed up to see the dangerous gleam in your eyes.  Even so, it was just as well that he had brought rope to tie your hands behind your back.  If you were still defiant, you might try to run.  He walked you down the hallway to the showers, knowing that there would be no one present at this hour. 

                You looked up in surprise when you saw the neatly folded change of clothing waiting on the counter beside the sink.  “Is that for me?” you asked softly.

                “Well, they’re not my size, so yeah, probably,” he laughed caustically. 

                “Thank you,” you said, your voice an uncertain whisper.

                “Get in the shower,” he said, still holding the rope.

                “Uh, but, how can I wash if…” you shrugged and wiggled your fingers.

                “You won’t.”  He stepped forward and pulled out a pair of scissors.  With deft movements, he cut your clothing away.  The look of shock on your face made him want to laugh as he snipped away your clothing.  With a smirk, he pointed to the shower.  “Get in.” 

                Your gasps and attempts to hide your body from him brought one word to his mind – Cute.  The look on your face when he tied the rope to the shower head and stripped finally brought a chuckle he couldn’t suppress. 

                “I’m not getting my clothes wet,” he said, schooling his face back into its usual mask of indifference.  “I am washing you though.  I’m not letting you get away.”  He turned on the water, carefully adjusting it so you would at least be comfortable and stepped in with you. 

                Washing your hair did not quite go as planned.  He ended up having to do it in stages and became frustrated as it tangled around his fingers the instant it was wet.  “Sorry,” he grunted after he caught a particularly nasty tangle.

                “Is there conditioner?” you asked, still wincing from the harsh pulling.

                “I didn’t look.  Why?”

                “It helps get the tangles out.  I… I haven’t had a brush since you brought me here.  It’s going to be miserable when we get out.”

                He thought about whether he cared whether your hair were tangled or not.  Deciding that it wouldn’t matter if you could brush it out and look decent, he looked around until he found conditioner.  He probably used too much, he realized as he watched white globs fall to the shower floor.  Oh well, it was done. 

                After your hair was rinsed out, he scrubbed your body briskly.  He’d thought about taking his time with this part, but found himself responding to the feel of your body through the washcloth.  Rather than follow those reactions, he chose to distance himself from the moment and turned it into the most clinical procedure he could.

                He untied you only long enough to let you dry yourself and get dressed.  Binding your wrists again, he pushed you to the hallway and back toward your room.  Rounding a corner, he froze and yanked the rope harshly, stopping you in your tracks.

                “Savior,” he said respectfully.  “Were you looking for me?”

                “Yes, Saeran, I was.”  The blonde eyed you angrily.  “Before we get to why I needed you, who is this?”

                “She’s the one we sent to the RFA,” he explained, biting back how much he hated her using his name. 

                “And she is here, _why?_ ”

                “They were corrupting her.  I brought her to save her from them.” 

                She glared at him.  “Without my consent?  Without even informing me?  No, this will not do.  You will send her to my room first thing tomorrow.  She’ll need to be cleansed properly.  See to it.  I’ll discuss this matter with you when I am not so angry.”  She brushed past him, clearly furious.

                Saeran watched her go before turning back to you.  “Move,” he said brusquely. 

                Once you were safely locked in your room, he returned to his desk and began working.  The Savior was angry.  That was bad.  She wanted to cleanse you.  That was worse.  He’d worked so hard to make sure that you would be his, and now she was going to take you away.

                He found himself looking at his hands, remembering the feel of your flesh as he watched you.  Despite being bound and at his mercy, you’d relaxed in the shower.  He hadn’t asked, but had you actually accepted him that easily?  Did you understand that he was only trying to take care of you? 

                Looking at the feed from your room, he watched as you worked through your hair with the comb he’d found for you.  It didn’t look like a pleasant task, but you were as determined and persistent as ever.  Glancing back at the clock on his monitor, he realized he’d been watching you for half an hour.  Irritably, he punched the power switch and turned off the distracting view.

                He supposed that he should be happy that you were going to be cleansed.  The Savior could have told him to take you out and kill you.  She’d done that a couple of times in the past, and he still cringed inside at the memory of the gun firing in his hands and the smell of gunpowder.  Still, you were _his_.  Why was she trying to take you away?  She never wanted him to have anything.  He knew that much without even thinking about it.

                Well, not this time.

                He snuck into the kitchen and gathered some food he thought might travel well.  Thinking over his selections, he grabbed a few bottles of water and returned to his room, packing a bag with his pilfered goods.  Rolling them tightly, he added two blankets to the top of the bag.  Lacking any other way to hold them to the pack, he tore his sheet into strips and made sure the blankets wouldn’t fall when jostled.  He picked up the rope he’d used earlier and went to your room.

                You were sleeping on your side, your hair finally restored to order.  One hand curled under your chin and you slept on your other arm.  He stopped to watch you, feeling a strange urge to put his hands on you again.  Shaking his head, he kicked the side of the bed.  He couldn’t trust himself to wake you by touching you, not right now.

                When you opened your eyes, he only said, “Get up, we’re leaving.”

                “Leaving?” you asked, confused.

                “Yeah, leaving.  Get up.”

                “Why? What?  Where are we going?”

                “Because you’re mine, now get up.  Move.  We don’t have forever.”

                You stood slowly, still shaky from being suddenly awakened.  He grabbed your wrists and tied your hands in front of you this time.  “Stay close.  If they catch us, we’re both done.” 

                He led you out a side door into the night air.  You shivered, the mountains being much cooler than the city.  He frowned at himself for not thinking that you’d need a jacket of some sort.  Oh well, you’d both be warm enough soon.  Hiking around in the mountains was sure to bring up your body heat.  He twitched internally at the thought of you, warm, supple, soft…

                With an irritated growl, he led you off, away from Magenta and into the forest.  He didn’t know where he was going, only away from that place.  No one was taking you away from him.  He wandered without thinking about where he was going, not that he could see far in the darkness. 

                A full moon hung overhead, but the thick forest blocked out most of its light.  He focused on working his way up the mountain, only thinking that anyone looking for him would look down, back toward town, first.  Stepping out from the trees at last, he felt his foot hit ground.  He felt the ground give way.  Looking back at you as he fell, he opened his hand, releasing the rope so he didn’t drag you with him.  He slid, bounced, and then tumbled through open air before landing on an outcropping where he hit his head and promptly passed out.

                When he came to, dirt filtered down onto him from above.  The sun was beginning to rise, casting a pale glow across the eastern sky.  Rubbing his head, he looked up to see that he’d fallen a few hundred feet from the edge of the cliff above.  Then his jaw dropped open in surprise.

                You were working your way down the face of the cliff to him, using the rope he’d bound you with.  Reaching a branch, you tugged at it fiercely and then nodded.  With a yank, you pulled the rope down, folded it over the branch, and continued your descent.

                He sat up, aching, and watched you.  Rather than calling out, he simply let you make your way down to him.  Why were you coming after him?  Why hadn’t you realized your good luck and run?  When you pulled the rope down for the last time and turned to him, he saw nothing in your expression but worry. 

                “Are you alright?” you asked, panting for breath.  “Do you think anything is broken?  I got here as fast as I could.”

                “I’m fine.  You might be crazy, though.”

                “Me?  Why?”

                “Why didn’t you take off?”

                You looked at him as if he might be a little crazy, himself.  “And leave you hanging out here in god knows what condition to just die?”

                “I would have done it, in your position.”

                “Then be glad you’re the one that fell,” you said, kneeling carefully next to him and reaching for his head.  “You were bleeding a little.  Do you see clearly?” 

                “I’m fine,” he said, brushing away your hands.  “We need to get down from here though.”  He stood slowly, not quite trusting his aching body.  He’d gotten lucky.  There wasn’t any real damage, but he ached from head to toe.  He looked over the edge, seeking a route down. 

                “I already found us a way down,” you said.  “We’re not far from the ground, actually.”  She pointed to a more gentle slope.  “It won’t be easy, but if we sit down and scoot carefully, I think we’ll get down alright.” 

                Feeling the thirst generated by having spent the night exposed to the elements, Saeran reached for his backpack, only to find he’d lost it in the fall.  Well, that was wonderful.  Now there was no food and no water.  He peered over the edge again, hoping for some sign of the bag, but couldn’t make out the ground through the trees that pressed against the cliff. 

                With a sigh, he turned to you.  “Yeah, let’s get down from here.”

                This time, he followed you, watching how you moved and trying to mimic the placement of your hands and feet.  By the time you reached the forest floor, you were both covered in dirt and sweat.  His thirst drove him back to his feet and he started off without a word. 

                “Where are you going now?” you asked, following him.

                “Looking for the bag.  There’s food and water in it.”

                He glanced back only once, pleased to see you walking only a few steps behind him.  You weren’t leaving.  You’d come after him and now you were actively staying with him.  He beamed through the aching muscles and dirt-streaked skin.  You really were his, he had been right!

                It took some time, but the bag was found, hanging from a branch.  He lifted you so you could climb up and toss it down to him and then stayed to catch you if you fell.  The two of you shared a silent, dry meal of bread and dehydrated fruits.  Evening came on quickly, and you lucked into a clearing with a small stream running alongside it.  After cleaning up somewhat, he unfurled the blankets and you lay down together. 

                “Sorry I didn’t think about a fire,” he apologized, pulling off his jacket and laying it over you.  “I didn’t have a lot of time.” 

                “It’s fine, thank you,” you responded.  “Won’t you be cold though?” 

                He shook his head, taking in a deep breath.  “I’ll be fine.”  He slid close to you, running an arm under the jacket and over your side.  Tired and sore, he still wanted to touch you again.  He also didn’t want to give you any reason to run away, not after you’d stayed with him.

                “That woman, what was she going to do?” you asked.

                “Don’t worry about it.  You wouldn’t have liked it, leave it at that.”

                “So you brought me out here to save me?”

                “Something like that,” he murmured.  “Go to sleep.” 

                He felt you relax beside him, leaning your back against his chest.  The contact sent waves of fire through his body and his heart raced, tightening his chest.

                “She called you Saeran.  Is that your name?” 

                He tensed then.  He hated his name.  He hated how it reminded him of the twin he’d trusted, the first person to abandon him.  “Yeah,” he answered tersely.  “I thought I said go to sleep.” 

                “Thank you for protecting me, Saeran,” you whispered before falling silent. 

                He couldn’t sleep, even after your breathing slowed and he knew that you were likely lost in a dream somewhere far from him.  Your body, your warmth, permeated every sense and brought to him sensations he hadn’t felt before.  Not only did he want nothing but to protect you and keep you safe from harm, not only did his heart feel like someone had left it in a blast furnace, but his body was responding and he felt himself growing hard.  He wanted to rub his erection against you, but forced himself to stillness. 

                He was maintaining control until you began rocking your hips, pressing your ass against his length.  He groaned through clenched jaws and closed his eyes, demanding that he not respond.

                “Saeran, please…” you moaned quietly, your hand moving to stroke the juncture between your legs.

                He couldn’t take anymore.  His fingers stretched out tentatively, closing around your breast.  As he closed them, you moaned again, pressing your body against his more fiercely.  He groaned quietly, feeling the sound rumble through his chest and continued his exploration. 

                You stretched your head back, whimpering beneath his touch, and your hair slid to the side, baring your skin to the moonlight.  On impulse, he pressed his lips to the softness before him, and felt you stiffen and pull away. 

                “Saeran?  Wha…”

                He pulled back, embarrassed both to have been caught touching you and at his arousal, still throbbing against you.  “I… you… I mean…” he fumbled.

                “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you apologized, pulling away from him.  “I didn’t think… I mean… oh god…”  You buried your face in your hands.

                “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… I wanted…” he stammered.

                Neither of you moved for a moment, but he couldn’t stop wanting to touch you.  Your skin had tasted so sweet beneath the saltiness.  He reached out, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you close again. 

                “I… do we… I mean… do you want to stop?” he asked.

                “You were watching me from that camera, you should know the answer to that,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead into his chest so he couldn’t see your face.

                “What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly confused.  He hadn’t seen you do anything that explained this. 

                You started to curl in on yourself, clearly embarrassed again.  He moved to look into your eyes.  “What do you mean?” he asked again. 

                You bit your lips together and then cast your eyes away from his.  “After the shower, after I got my hair combed out…” your words faded off.

                He thought back quickly.  He’d watched you combing your hair, and then… then he’d turned off the monitor!  What had happened?  He had to know.

                “I turned it off.  I had to focus on my work, and then I decided we were leaving.  What happened?”  His mind was beginning to think of a few options, but he had to hear it from you to be sure of his luck. 

                “I… I couldn’t stop… I mean, the shower… I…” you looked up at him miserably. 

                For an instant he cursed himself for not leaving the screen on, and then he brought his lips down onto yours in victory.  Your movements in your sleep and your embarrassment confirmed his unbelievable luck and inspired the courage to fold you into his arms and allow himself to taste your lips.  When you melted into him with a soft noise, he kissed you all the more fiercely. 

                Hesitation fled and he drew his fingers up to caress your breast again, hoping to hear that delightful moan you’d uttered earlier.  Not only did he win that prize, but you wrapped an arm over his side, pressing your palm into his back and aligning your body with his.  The feel of your thigh against his hardness made his hips buck suddenly and he moaned into your mouth at the warm pressure against his head. 

                You pulled back, searching his face.  “You didn’t see… that… then?”

                He shook his head.  “No, I didn’t.”  He smiled slowly as an idea came to him.  “Why don’t you show me what you did?” 

                Your eyes widened and you gasped in mortification.  “No!  I can’t!” you exclaimed. 

                “Why not?  You did earlier when you thought I was watching.”  He was enjoying this.  The idea of watching while you…

                “You weren’t right there with me!”

                “So much more’s the pity,” he responded, the smile curling to a smirk.  “If I’d been there, perhaps you’d have been rewarded for your efforts?” 

                “R.. re… rewarded?” you gulped.

                “Hmm, like this,” he said, taking your earlobe in his teeth and tugging it.  When you whimpered and trembled against him he felt as if he’d finally experienced the joy of Christmas morning he’d heard about all his life.  “Show me,” he whispered before leaning back away from you. 

                You eyed him nervously, clearly uncertain whether to do as he’d bid or not.  Slowly, your hand left his side and traversed the distance to the top of your pants.  He watched gleefully as you closed your eyes, unfastened the button, and slid the zipper down slowly.  Your fingers disappeared beneath the denim and he watched as your wrist began to flex slowly, rocking your digits against the soft flesh between your legs. 

                “Oh, that’s what you were doing, is it, pet?” he asked, deliberately keeping the teasing tones in his question.  In his thoughts, he couldn’t believe that you were touching yourself, thinking of _him_ of all people! 

                You nodded silently, but didn’t stop working at yourself. 

                He watched for a few minutes, waiting until you began to moan before allowing himself to taste the softness of your neck again.  As his tongue darted against your skin, your hips bucked and you called out, “Yes! Saeran!  Please!”

                He didn’t need any further encouragement to snap his self-control.  His body was on fire and he was harder than he’d ever been before.  All he wanted was to be inside you, even though he didn’t know what that would be like.  He just knew that the only way he would feel like himself again was to reach that goal. 

                He rose above you and grabbed your pants, pulling them over your hips.  A gleam of anticipation filled his eyes as you wriggled to help him remove the restrictive clothing.  Shoving them aside, he looked back to see you still working at yourself, your fingers flexing rhythmically beneath your panties.  He discarded the thin fabric, revealing that your middle finger darted around the opening he could make out in the moonlight.  

                “Saeran…” you called, opening your eyes at last.  “Please, I want…”

                He shed his clothing and drew his body up yours to kiss you again.  When your fingers closed around him, he threw his head back, gasping and calling your name.  You guided him to your opening and lifted your hips, pressing the hot, wet flesh onto his head. 

                With a growl, he thrust forward, watching with delight as your eyelids fluttered and you cried out.  Pressing through your tight, pulsing walls, he worked himself deeper and deeper into you.  Every time his hips moved forward, your voice filled his ears.  At last he was inside you fully and you whimpered his name, gripping at his shoulders as you writhed beneath him.  The name he’d hated became his favorite song as you cried out over and over again. 

                He wanted to go slowly.  He wanted to make this last.  He wanted to be sure that you were his, in every sense.  Had anything ever felt so intense, so powerful, so consuming?  The pressure building in him was spurred on too quickly as your body gripped at his.  He gave in, letting his body have its way and driving him into your depths again and again. 

                Your hips bucked against him with every thrust and your fingernails bit into his back, driving him almost to madness with the sensation.  He didn’t know when he had started, but he was vaguely aware that he was growling, “Mine, mine, mine” over and over again.  Your response sent him over the edge. 

                “Saeran, yes!  Yours, yes, please, yours!” you screamed as your body spasmed hotly and your teeth found his shoulder.

                He felt the heat and the release, the sheer force as he spilled into you, shouting loudly, “Yes!  Fuck! Yes!” Waves of pleasure washed through his body as his spine curved back, driving his hips to grind against you one final time.

                When his body relaxed again, he fell forward, his forehead pressing against yours.  He lay on you, panting with you, feeling you relaxing as well.  When he finally rolled to his side, he flinched at how sensitive he’d become.  The chill air hit the wetness of your combined juices and sent a shiver coursing through him. 

                Sleep came soon after, with no further words spoken between you.

                Waking to the sunlight pouring into the clearing, Saeran found you had pulled the second blanket over the two of you.  Your naked bodies pressed together and your arms enclosed one another.  The memories of the night flooded his senses and he smiled, a happy, genuine smile he wasn’t used to feeling. 

 

***

                Three days later, a dirty, disheveled young woman waited at the reception desk of C&R’s main offices.  The receptionist eyed her warily.  Why some homeless girl was here asking to see Jaehee Kang was a complete mystery, but it wasn’t her job to ask.

                Jaehee stepped out of the elevator and approached the girl with a frown of confusion.  “Can I help you?” she asked carefully. 

                “Jaehee, I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.  I’m sorry I look so awful, it’s a long story.  Can you call Jumin and the others?  We have some things to talk about.”  She stretched her hand out to a pale-haired, thin, young man.  He came forward and wound his fingers into hers with a soft smile.  “You should really make sure that Seven comes, too.  I think he’s going to want to see his brother.” 


End file.
